Not Fifteen
by soavezefiretto
Summary: How far will Beverly go to save her beginning realtionship with Will? How far will Jean-Luc go to prevent it? Or is that not really the issue at all? **CHAPTER NINE UP, NOW COMPLETED** Sorry for the delay!! PLEASE R&R!!
1. Not fifteen

Disclaimer: I don't own Star Trek, and I didn't invent any of the characters herein depicted. I am not making any money out of this.  
  
Summary: Will Riker and Bevery meet in a deserted Ten Forward. Everyone is on shore leave, and their dates have been cancelled...  
  
Review: Yes, please!! I do have an idea of how to follow up on this, and it would greatly help me if you let me know what you thought, if you see any future in this story (or this relationship??)... just talk to me:))  
  
  
  
Not fifteen  
by  
Miranda  
  
  
Beverly stared blankly ahead.  
  
"If this is too difficult a question for you right now, I can come back later."  
  
Guinan's face was earnest and sympathetic, but the humour in her voice was unmistakable. Beverly blinked in confusion.  
  
"Uh... what? Oh... I'm sorry, Guinan, I suppose I was little distracted. Just a pineapple juice, please."  
  
"Going for the risky choices, are we?"  
  
"Right, I'm going to make this a wild night." Beverly sighed and smiled ruefully. Then she glanced over her shoulder at the deserted Ten Forward.  
  
Placing a glass in front of her, Guinan said: "Don't worry, he'll be here any minute. I'm sure nothing could keep him from attending to this date."  
  
Beverly looked surprised for a second, then shook her head. "Of course, I always forget: you know everything. Well, almost everything. I have a piece of information for you: he's NOT coming."  
  
Guinan raised her eyebrows. "Oh?"  
  
"It turned out there was this big meeting of some of the gratest personalities in archaeologics. It's a yearly event, and since he is always invited and never gets the chance to attend..."  
  
"I see."  
  
"Yes. Funny though, he never heard a word about this meeting until an hour before we were supposed to meet. Hence the outfit." Beverly made a gesture towards the low-cut, long black silk dress she was wearing.  
  
"You look very beautiful, Beverly. Jean Luc is missing quite a sight."  
  
"Well, I hadn't really decided what I was going to wear. Promise you won't tell anyone, but I've been trying on dresses for practically two days. This was going to be a special night, you know? I mean, we see each other every day, we meet for lunch and for dinner, even for breakfast almost every day... but this was going to be different, a real date: we're on earth, and he was going to pick me up and take me to a real restaurant, with real waiters, not holograms, and linen napkins, we were both going to be out of uniform, and then maybe go for a walk, and - oh, isn't it stupid to still be dreaming about holding hands? I'm not fifteen anymore, for Gods sake!"  
  
"There is nothing stupid about dreaming, Beverly. And there is nothing stupid about holding hands either. OR being fifteen, for that matter."  
  
"But I am, I am SO stupid, Guinan! I should know better, damn it! After all these years, I should know better than to dream up a perfect moonlit night with Jean Luc Picard. He just doesn't work that way. I am all in a fluffy haze about this stupid date for days, and he sets me up for an archaeological meeting, guest star for the evening the lady-explorer who does the best disappearing trick in the galaxy: Vash."  
  
Guinan said nothing, but a queer mixture of concern and amusement crossed her features.  
  
"Right. He didn't tell me THAT little detail, of course, but it wasn't too difficult to find out."  
  
"Maybe he didn't know she was going to be there."  
  
"Maybe." Beverly sipped at her juice, not really tasting it. "But that doesn't change the fact that our date didn't mean that much to him in the first place. So many YEARS, Guinan, hoping, fantasizing, doubting - deluding myself that whenever I was ready, he was going to be there, and now..." She fought the tears furiously. She was NOT going to cry because her boy had forgotten to pick her up for the prom dance, she was not! Thank God everyone was out on shore leave (having the most perfect dream-dates, no doubt), so no one would see her red-rimmed eyes and drippy nose.  
  
"Can I have a double scotch straight, Guinan, please?"  
  
"Speaking of risky choices and wild nights..." Unruffled, Guinan prepared the drink.  
  
"Will! What are you doing here?"  
  
"Hi, Beverly. I'm glad to see you too." His smile was tired and cracking up at the corners of his mouth.  
  
"Sorry..." She giggled in embarassement and blushed. As she turned her head, her hair fell over her cheek, and for a moment, Will Riker saw the girl Beverly Howard once had been, fifteen years old and going to the movies with a guy she really liked, shy about what she said or did, in case he thought she was dumb and didn't want to walk her home afterwards...  
  
"I didn't mean to be rude, I'm just surprised to see you here. I thought you'd be camping under the stars by the Grand Canyon by now."  
  
"So did I." The vision vanished. The woman facing him was definitely NOT fifteen. It would probably be illegal for fifteen-year-olds to be dressed like that. Will whistled mentally.  
  
"Deanna changed her mind. She has already seen the Gran Canyon, she was only going for my sake, and then came this very sudden offer she just couldn't reject, so she said this experience would be much more rewarding for me if I went alone, to make this some sort of an introspective journey."  
  
He finished his whiskey in two huge gulps and made a face. "Introspective journey. That's what she said."  
  
"I'm sorry, Will." Beverly put a hand on his arm. "Maybe she'll come back in time... We still have two days of shore leave left."  
  
"I don't care when or if she comes back at all", he snapped fiercely.   
  
He was silent for nearly a minute. Then, staring into his empty glass, he said, stony faced: "She went to meet Worf's parents."  
  
"Oh." Beverly felt a pang of sympathetic pain. He'd been in love with Deanna ever since Beverly first met him, and somehow he had managed to transmit to everyone else his confidence: eventually, Deanna and him would be together. Forever. They were meant to be. Period. But Deanna's choice to spend her shore leave with Worf and his parents rather than with Will indicated clearly that she didn't want him to hope for a reunion anymore, that she had made her decision. Beverly thought this was a rather rude way to let him know.  
  
"Yeah." He shook his head, then looked up at her. "What about you?"  
  
"Have I been stood up too, you mean? Affirmative. Jean Luc cancelled on me, officially to attend an archaeologists conference, unofficially to meet Miss 'oooh, Jean Luc, guess what, I have an ARTIFACT for you'."  
  
"Vash!?"  
  
"How did you know?"  
  
"Your very accurate description, plus the special poisonous, sarcastic tone you reserve just for her."  
  
She laughed. "Right! Who would have thought I could be poisonous and sarcastic, too, huh?"  
  
"I for my part never doubted it", he grinned.  
  
"Did you, now?" Suddenly, Beverly slapped the counter with her open hand, making both Will and Guinan flinch.  
  
"What the hell are we doing, Will?" The fierceness in her eyes now matched the one he had shown a few minutes ago.  
  
"Look at us! Moping about, lamenting, dark clouds over our heads, and why? Just because things didn't turn out the way we wanted!"  
  
"Well, it's as good a cause to lament as any."  
  
"No, it isn't! Can't you see, Will? For a great part of our lives, we have been hoping, imagining exactly how our future would be, living in a fantasy world. Never once did we stop to look at the real world, at the people we actually lived with. They are real people, with real lives, with their own dreams and goals, and those dreams evidently don't include us, at least not in the way we hoped. All this wasted time, Will, all this - energy invested in dreaming up a life that would never happen..."  
  
Will just looked at her. She definitely had a point there, of course she hed, but that didn't make him feel any better. He felt more miserable by the minute, actually. Not only rejected, but a thoroughly pitiful excuse for a man, that's what he was.  
  
Beverly must have noticed the expression on his face. She stood up resolutely and said: "C'mon."  
  
"C'mon where?"  
  
"We're getting out of here. We're going to find a place where the music is loud and vulgar, the floor sticky, the counter greasy, where the barmaids are top-less and synthehol is science-fiction. And then we are going to get hugely, disgustingly, gloriously drunk. What do you say, huh? Fuck fancy dinners, fuck prissy archaeologists, fuck introspective journeys!"  
  
Will stared at her, dumbfaced.  
  
"Oh, come on! Just come with me", she pleaded. "Aren't you tired, Will? Tired of being proper, of being polite, tired of sitting discreetly in the second row just in case someone notices you? What for, Will? What for?"  
  
She stood before him, tall and slender, her head thrown back, her fists clenched. Will thought that any man would have to be stupid, blind, AND out of his mind to pass up a chance with a woman like that. Suddenly, out of nowhere, a memory flashed through him - a memory that wasn't his, and yet it lingered. He remembered almost nothing of the days he has served as Odan's host, only that he had been in pain, that it was difficult to concentrate - and that he loved Beverly. Odan had loved her, but it had been his hands, Will Riker's hands on her body. He didn't know if it was right, but he also knew that this was a memory he didn't want to miss. It was part of himself now.  
  
He took Beverly's hand. "I bet I can make you pass out before get even half as drunk as me. I know places that are so sleazy, you'll drop on the floor just from the smell."  
  
"Great! And after that, we can play a hand or two. I know just the place."  
  
Giving him no time to react, she started to pull him towards the exit. "Don't wait up for us, Guinan!"  
  
"I never do." 


	2. Oh my God

Summary:The morning after... and a not very big surprise at the end.  
  
Review:Yes, please!!! The "to be continued" or not is in YOUR hands...  
  
  
  
Chapter 2: Oh my God.  
  
  
"Ow!"  
  
Beverly was lying on her stomach, arms and legs sprawled across the bed. She had been awake for some time - it could be an hour, it could be five minutes -, unable move, unable to think, unable to remember where she was and not really caring. Her head throbbed rhythmically, her limbs were leaden, her mouth was dry.  
  
Gradually, consciousness began to settle in. She was lying on a bed, and although she felt like dying, she was most likely "only" suffering from a spectacular hangover. The next logical step was to get up, go to the bathroom, drink water, and then do something to keep her head from falling apart - "doctor, heal thyself". But the blinding ray of light that had flashed into her left eye when she half-opened it tentatively had been too much. Beverly fell back onto the bed and buried her head beneath the pillow.  
  
Pillow. Why was there a pillow on her bed? She didn't like to sleep with pillows, it was bad for her back. She kept them all in a drawer with the spare blankets. Well, she had obviously been so boozed the night before that maybe a pillow seemed like a good idea. People do strange things when they are drunk, they -  
  
Oh my God.  
  
"Will?"  
  
Her throat was so sore that even that little syllable hurt like a thousand small needles frantically seeking their way out. Beverly's voice was barely audible and muffled though the pillow over her head, but the answer came almost instantaneously. It was someone standing to the left of the bed. Someone whose voice didn't sound much better than hers. Someone tall.  
  
"Good morning, Beverly."  
  
OH MY GOD!!  
  
She had to look. She would have to anyway, eventually. If he was really there, burying her head under a pillow and pretending nothing had happened would make her look even more ridiculous than she was looking now. And maybe, maybe (oh please please please) he was not there and she was only panicking, and this was not his quarters, and...  
  
As she looked up into Will Riker's face, blinking furiously and brushing her hair out of her face, Beverly Crusher tried to form a smile with her lips and failed miserably, while her mind was just one big question, formed of huge red letters: WHAT HAPPENED??  
  
Will silently handed her a cup of coffee. Beverly made a face and sat up, noticing with a certain degree of relief that she was still wearing her dress and- yes, she was wearing her panties, too. Thank God for small favors.  
  
"Yeah, I know how you feel. But it gets better after the first sip, believe me."  
  
He sat down on the bed beside her, put the cup in her hand, then gently lifted her hand to her mouth. The strong smell helped her focus, and she took two slow sips while figuring what to say next.  
  
Staring into the black liquid, Beverly tried to remember last night. She remembered Ten Forward, her sudden anger and frustration. She remembered the pain she had seen in Will's eyes, and Guinan's quizzical look following them as they left together. Then they had transported straight into New York City's less fashionable part, where she still knew some - well, less than fashionable clubs. As it turned out, so did Will. After Charlie's Place, where they had run into Charlie himself and had been treated to an unending amount of tequilas (Charlie said he owed them to her husband, a certain Buddy, and Beverly was by then more than willing to let him believe she was married to Captain James T. Kirk), events and people became dizzy.   
  
The last thing she remembered was Will holding her very close, somewhere in a corridor on the Enterprise. The world around Beverly was spinning faster and faster, and she was very afraid some irresistible force would just suck her away, so she had put her arms around Will and held on tight.  
  
And then she had woken up. In his bed.  
  
There was no way around this now. They had to face this as adults.  
  
"Uhm, Will..."  
  
"Nothing happened, Beverly."  
  
For the first time she looked straight into his eyes. There was an amused and mischievous sparkle in them, and a smile spreading all over his face. As he continued, Will couldn't repress a laugh.  
  
"I'm sorry, Beverly, I should have told you right away, but you should have seen your face: staring into your coffee, face turning whiter and whiter, eyes opening wider and wider, sweat pearling on your forehead..."  
  
"Ok, I know I'm not the prettiest maid in the kingdom this morning, but you're no Prince Charming either!" He was unshaved, eyes puffed, skin pasty, hair poking in all possible and impossible directions. Not precisely Number One at his very best.  
  
"Touché. Sorry." He paused and took a deep breath. "Yesterday we were both..." He stopped again, at a loss for words.  
  
"Pissed?", Beverly suggested.  
  
Will smiled. "Pissed. Right. We went into some clubs, had a lot of drinks, and when we were back on the Enterprise, you couldn't remember the way to your quarters. I remembered where mine was -barely- and that's why you're here. Nothing to be ashamed about."  
  
"Oh, you mean being so drunk I can't remember where my own quarters are is no reason to be embarassed?"  
  
"Not when in presence of the man that almost was sick all over your very beautiful dress while stumbling through the corridors of the ship where he is second in command." While Beverly had a quick look down her dress, he stood up, groaning and holding his head. "Don't worry, I got to the bathroom in time."  
  
Beverly chuckled and shook her head, then immediatly decided that hadn't been such a good idea.  
  
"What about breakfast?"  
  
"Ugh, Will, are you out of your mind!?"  
  
"Right, how about a shower, then? Be my guest."  
  
"Great. I just need a few minutes to recover..." Beverly took another sip of coffee, then sighed and sunk back onto the bed. The headache was beginning to come into the range of the bearable, and lying there, staring to the ceiling, she felt oddly relaxed, almost - comfortable. Will had already seen her worst, she didn't have to act all terse and professional, she didn't have to worry if she was attractive enough, because she KNEW she wasn't - and it was all right. When had been the last time she had felt like this around a man, completely unrestricted? Not since Jack. And she missed it.  
  
"Mind if I go first?" That was Will from the bathroom.  
  
"No, go right ahead", she murmured, and felt herself drift back into sleep. Maybe it was going to be a good shore leave after all...  
  
And that was when Beverly heard the door whoosh open, and Deanna Troi's voice: "Will? Are you there?" 


	3. It's not what you think

It's not what you think  
  
  
  
There was a considerable amount of possible things to say, and a scaring variety of things to think, but, with only five seconds to react, Beverly could only come up, rather lamely, with the obvious:  
  
"Uhm... good morning, Deanna."  
  
"Oh..."   
  
With astonishing self-possession, Deanna immediately controlled her shock, until her expression was only one of mild surprise. Well, almost immediately. ALMOST mild.  
  
"Good morning, Beverly."   
  
Pause.  
  
More pause.  
  
Even more pause. Beverly realized they could easily be stuck in this cosmic awkwardness until well into the next century.  
  
"How was your shore leave, Beverly?"  
  
"Oh... fine, great, uhm, I mean... good. Too short, I guess. How was yours?" Did you meet Worf's parents? Did he propose yet? Did you have sex? Why are you here, why, why?  
  
"I had a very good time, thank you."   
  
What was this, Jane Austen? For heavens sake, they were going to start doing courtesies to each other in no time! Beverly was very fond of Jane Austen, but in that precise moment she discovered that this kind of situations were much more enjoyable when you could turn the page and knew that a couple of well arranged and happy marriages awaited you.  
  
"... I was looking for Will, is he around?"  
  
Around? Of course he's "around", these are his quarters! Why don't you ask me what I'm doing here?  
  
"Yeah, he's in the shower", Beverly offered cheerfully.  
  
Oops. That didn't sound good.  
  
"Oh. I see."  
  
"He'll be out any minute. Would you like a coffee? A... hot chocolate?"  
  
What am I now, the perfect hostess?  
  
"No, thank you. Would you just tell him I'm back and I came by to say hello?"  
  
"Sure."  
  
"Oh, and, Beverly?"  
  
"Yes?"  
  
"I'm glad to see you."  
  
"Me too, Deanna."  
  
Beverly was sinking back onto the bed - again - when Will came out of the bathroom, hair dripping and looking notoriously refreshed. Actually, he looked gorgeous. Good that Beverly was too tired, sick and strung up to notice any of that.  
  
"Beverly, did I just hear you talk to yourself?"  
  
"No, I... I was just-"  
  
For a moment, Beverly considered not telling Will about Deanna's visit. If she did, that comfortable, relaxed atmosphere they had shared would vanish, and Beverly had the feeling that something very precious and fragile would disappear forever.  
  
But she had no right to take that kind of decisions for him. "I was talking to Deanna. She just came back and asked to tell you she came by to say hello."  
  
"Oh."  
  
"I... I think I'll better go now, Will." Beverly stood up and picked up her shoes from the floor.  
  
"What about your shower?"  
  
"I have a shower in my quarters, too, you know? And I think I can find the way now. It's still early, and half of the people are still away on shore leave, so with any luck no one will see me slouching around in a crumpled evening dress." And no one will see my hair.  
  
"Well... ok." They were standing by the door now. One more step and it would open, she would step out and be gone.  
  
"I... I had a great time, Will. Thank you."  
  
"I had a great time, too. There's nothing to thank me for. I should be the one thanking you."  
  
She smiled and turned to go. Will remembered her sad eyes yesterday in Ten Forward; he remembered her a couple of hours later, with tears rolling down her cheeks and a piece of lime in her mouth, while she almost toppled over with laughter; he remembered the white curve of her neck while she walked ahead of him across a dark, deserted street; and he remembered how Odan had felt whenever he looked at her.  
  
The door was beginning to slide open.  
  
"Don't go."  
  
Beverly turned around.  
  
"I... what I mean is - you don't HAVE to go. Maybe... maybe we could have breakfast together... if you want."  
  
Will Riker offered a rather pathetic image: wet hair lying flat again his skull, eyes huge, face one big question mark, hand hesitantly stretched out, not touching hers by inches.  
  
"Do you really think breakfast is a good idea, Will?"  
  
He took a deep breath. "I think it's a great idea."  
  
The doors slid silently shut behind Beverly Crusher. 


	4. One fine day

Comments:I want to thank all my kind and enthusiastic reviewers, especially Altra Palantir for laughing so much:)), and all those P/C shippers who decided to give this idea a chance. It's vital for this story that you keep telling me sincerely what you think, because (like Beverly and Will themselves) I have but a very dim idea of where this is going.  
  
  
  
Chapter 4: One fine day  
  
  
  
"Do you remember any of it?"  
  
Will had been expecting the question, and yet it took him by surprise. Maybe that was the reason he answered spontaneously, or maybe it was because he hadn't been self-conscious and speaking freely without having to ask permission first for much longer than he was used to - one whole day.  
  
"Yes, I do."  
  
Beverly didn't urge him further on, but her look told him she wanted to know as much as he was ready to share. And, to his surprise, he found it would be easy to share it all (well, almost all) with her. They had shared so much already on this long, strange day...  
  
---------------  
  
Breakfast had lingered and turned into a very prolonged brunch, then into lunch and gradually into something like supper. Once the first few bites were hesitantly taken, they both discovered they were ravenously hungry, and the meal had turned first into a contest of who could come up with the best anti-hangover food, and then into a marathon of reminiscence, where they replicated in turns all kinds of meals that reminded them of their days at the academy, their youth, their childhood, their parents... All of a sudden, each new order to the replicator became a story, an adventure, a voyage to the past; with each new taste, one of them offered the other a piece of his or her life.   
  
While Beverly chewed pancakes with maple syrup, Will talked about his mother, so golden and beautiful. He was very young when she left, but still it had broken apart his life. In a very low voice, almost a whisper, he said:   
  
"It's not whole yet, you know? It still hurts so much..."   
  
The kind of fierce and tender love she saw in his eyes sent shivers down Beverly's spine.   
  
Then she had whispered her own secret recipe of cheesecake into the replicator, and told Will how it reminded her of her childhood summers, when she and her mother used to sit on the porch sharing a piece of cake, waiting for dad to come home. Years later, she and Wesley did the same, waiting for Jack, and Wesley would always finish his piece, although he hated cheesecake, because he knew this meant something special to her, and no other cake would do.   
  
She missed him, and so she cried a little for him, and a little for Jack, and a little for herself, but it was ok. Will just smiled, as if it were perfectly natural for her to be sitting on the floor, sniffing into a cup of chocolate ice cream (he had replicated it because her mention of summer had brought to his mind his first girlfriend and first kiss, when he was twelve years old and spending a vacation with his grandparents in the country).  
  
And it was. She was wearing one of his T-shirts (splattered with syrup and something that looked suspiciously like omelette) and no bra, her hair was just tied together loosely at the back of her neck... she had been the opposite of sophistication and feminine attractiveness all day - and she didn't care. Not once had she thought about her aspect. Or his.   
  
They had rolled on the floor with laughter, they had cried, they had listened to sentimental songs and squealed in delight at the sheer shmaltzyness, or when they found out about a common favorite. For long minutes they had just been silent together.   
  
Will's first girlfriend (Yolanda, he was now convinced he had just fallen in love with the name) had brought them to the theme of old flames and lovers, and so to Odan. Beverly had always wanted to know what exactly Will remembered, how he had felt while he was host to the Trill, and afterwards. But she had been too shy, didn't think it would be appropriate, never found the moment... Now, the question came naturally. And so came the answer.  
  
"Yes, I do."  
  
----------------  
  
"At first I didn't remember anything at all, as if I'd been in a coma all the time. And then I started having these weird - sensations. I would step into the turbolift and suddenly recall a conversation I had never had, or catch a sniff of something in Ten Forward and taste something I couldn't remember drinking ever before... what was that bubbly thing Odan used to drink?"  
  
"Altairean champagne."  
  
"Right. Yuck! I have always hated champagne, all of it, and now everything I drank tasted like it. And the same thing happened with food, everything I ate tasted like something completely different. I can tell you, I went through gastronomical hell for a couple of days."  
  
"I see, so this is your revenge?" Beverly gestured to the dozen or so empty or half empty plates, bowls, cups and glasses that surrounded them.  
  
He grinned. "Exactly."  
  
Then the grin faded. He knew that was not why she had asked.  
  
"And I remembered you, too."  
  
"What did you remember?"  
  
"Nothing definite. Like I said, snatches of conversations would pop into my mind out of nowhere, or certain gestures. The way you put on first your socks and then your trousers, for example."  
  
"You saw me undressing?"  
  
"No, I saw you getting dressed. And not all of it. Just the thing with the socks."  
  
"Did it bother you?"  
  
"Well... no, not really. It was disorienting at first, but it was easy to guess the cause, so I got used to it. And it didn't last long."  
  
"So now you don't remember anymore?"  
  
"I don't remember new things. But I haven't forgotten any of what I remembered then, either."  
  
"Oh." She paused and looked at the floor thoughtfully. Will knew she wasn't finished and waited patiently.  
  
Finally, she looked straight up at him. There were polite ways to talk around these kind of issues, but Beverly didn't want them or even need them. Not with Will. Not after a day like this.  
  
"Do you remember making love to me?"  
  
"I remember Odan making love to you."  
  
"What do you mean?"  
  
"I'm not sure I can explain it, Beverly. It's... it's like those phantom sensations they say you have in limbs that no longer exist - when you lose a hand or a leg, and still can feel it itching, although it's no longer there. It was Odan making love to you, not me - but I can remember how you looked, how it felt to touch you... It was something very special for him."  
  
Will couldn't read Beverly's expression. After a while, he added: "He really loved you, Beverly. I can remember THAT, too. Just thinking about you made him happy."  
  
When she still didn't speak, he said worriedly: "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to upset you. Maybe I shouldn't have..."  
  
Beverly leaned over and took his hand.  
  
"Don't be sorry, Will. I wanted to know, and you told me. You know... I always suspected something like that, I couldn't believe you could go through a procedure like that and come away with no sequels. But having it confirmed now, knowing that you know..."  
  
"I know. You didn't choose to share those memories with me. It's like having an uninvited guest you just can't get rid of, huh?"  
  
"Well... I guess so. But you know what?" She smiled and laid her other hand on his cheek. "I'm glad the guest is you. Maybe you were not invited, but you're always welcome."  
  
He gazed into her eyes, not sure of what she was implying. Ever since Odan (ok, even one or two times BEFORE Odan, but that was something completely different) he had had sexual thoughts about her occasionally, and felt terribly guilty. First, because he didn't want to take something from her she hadn't offered, and second (and he felt much worse about this part), because he wasn't really working very hard to prevent those thoughts from happening. He liked thinking about her, he liked those memories, and deep down he didn't care where they came from.  
  
Was she telling him now that it was all right for him to have those feelings? That he was welcome to share the memories with her?  
  
"Beverly..."  
  
"Transporter room 1 to Commander Riker."  
  
"What the-? I'm one shore leave, for Gods sake! Riker here, go ahead, Mr. O'Brian."  
  
"Commander, I just wanted to let you know that the Captain just came on board and asked if you were on board yet."  
  
"Did he say he wanted to see me?"  
  
"Uh... no sir, I just thought you'd like to know."  
  
"Well, now I know. Thank you Mr. O'Brian. Riker out."  
  
Will turned to face Beverly. "What was that all about?"  
  
Beverly stood up from the floor. "I think he wanted to warn you."  
  
"Warn me?"  
  
"Will, by now everyone on the Enterprise must know we spent the whole day locked up in your quarters. What do you think they think we're doing?"  
  
"What does he think, that the Captain will barge in here and beat me up for dishonoring you?"  
  
"Well, what do you think the Captain will do?"  
  
"I think he won't believe some stupid rumor, and he will talk to me if he has a problem."  
  
"You don't know Jean-Luc, Will. He will NOT talk to you, especially if he has a problem."  
  
"Ok, then we won't talk. Anyway, what's there to talk about? It's none of his business. He's the one who cancelled on you to have a fling with Vash! Wait, where are you going?"  
  
"I'm going to get dressed."  
  
Will couldn't disguise the disappointment and frustration in his voice. "Oh, come on, Beverly..."  
  
"Really, Will, I should leave now. It's late. I'll see you soon." And with that and a light kiss on his cheek, she was out of the room. 


	5. Die hard

Comment:This is mostly an interlude from another point of view, AND my personal little homage to our favorite android. It is mostly descriptive of a situation on the Enterprise and not as lighthearted as the previous chapters, but hey, don't blame me! I can't make such a serious confrontation between the captain and Number One lighthearted, right? I'm just trying to swing us both (writer and readers) into the right mood.   
  
You might think I am exaggerating the captain's and crew's reactions, but I always believed one of the reasons the Enterprise is such a special ship (and the reason we love her so much) is the fine equilibrium in the relationships between all the members of the bridge crew. When you're on a starship and everything may change radically every minute, the last thing you need is for someone to question the very structure of your family...   
  
Of course, and as always, I couldn't do this without you, so please tell me what you think!!  
  
  
  
Chapter 5: Die hard  
  
  
  
That evening, Data decided that enough was enough.   
  
For four days now he had been increasingly puzzled, then outright worried by the unaccustomed behavior of several of his crewmates and friends - ALL of them, actually. From the moment everyone had returned from shore leave and the routine of duty shifts and normal occupations had settled in, there had been sidelong glances, tense silences, whispers and abruptly interrupted conversations whenever two or more members of the bridge crew where together.  
  
And the phenomenon (for Data had begun to consider it as such) was spreading. Soon it was not circumscribed to the bridge crew. Crewmembers would gather in corridors and engage in heated discussions, then speed apart when an officer approached them. And the captain - he walked around shrouded, as it were, in a blanket of icy silence even Data could perceive clearly.  
  
It reminded Data of the time when his severed head had been found at an excavation and they were all convinced that he would die during the next mission. Only this time nothing out of the ordinary had happened. At least, nothing that he was aware of. However, Data was conscious of his limitations. He had ceased long ago to believe that human reactions and emotions could be categorized, analyzed and understood. To solve this mystery and to help his friends (he had a somewhat confused but very strong feeling that they needed to be helped) he needed help himself. And he knew just where to get it.  
  
  
"I don't think you can help them, Data. Not with this."  
  
"But - if I understand correctly, Guinan, this situation rests on a misunderstanding. Captain Picard and the greater part of the crew are mistaken in believing that Commander Riker and Doctor Crusher are romantically involved. Although I do not fully comprehend why that should make everybody so... uneasy, the logical solution would seem for the Commander and the Doctor to declare that such a relationship between them does not exist."  
  
"Yes... the logical solution. But you know there are no logical solutions in these matters Data, don't you? You're not the only one who doesn't 'fully comprehend' them."  
  
"So you are saying that nothing can be done?"  
  
"Oh no, a lot of things can be done, Data. In fact, almost everything could be done now. What I am saying is that they have to do it themselves."  
  
Data started to nod his understanding, but then tilted his head slightly to the right in that quizzical way he had.  
  
"Who has to?"  
  
Guinan smiled, but the smile didn't reach her eyes. Beverly's nervousness, Will's sad eyes, Jean-Luc's stony silence and Deanna's unnatural cheerfulness had been weighing heavily on her. She could feel how it was affecting the rest of the crew, imperceptibly unsettling the fine balance that had always made the Enterprise something more than just a ship and the sum of people who worked and lived aboard her. The very core of her was breaking apart, and, like so many times before, all she could do was watch.  
  
"Well, mostly Doctor Crusher and Commander Riker."  
  
"But they are blameless. Others started the rumor."  
  
"Of course they are blameless. And so is everyone else. No one is to blame. But one way or the other, they started it, and one way or the other, they will have to end it."  
  
"That seems - unfair."  
  
"Yes, it is."  
  
Data nodded thoughtfully. Two, three years ago he would not have been prepared to accept unfairness could be inherent to a given situation.  
  
"So, do you think I should just - step aside?"  
  
Guinan's smile grew wider and more genuine. This man would never cease to surprise her, his ability and willingness to learn, the compassion in him."  
  
"Well, you could try to let them know that you're there for them whatever decision they take, that they are your friends, and that you understand."  
  
"Don't they know that already?"  
  
Guinan was about to answer but changed her mind when she saw Will Riker enter Ten Forward. There was a split second of nearly complete silence in the room, then the conversations were resumed. Will knew at least half of them had changed topic. For a moment he thought about leaving again, but then he spotted Data. He was the only one who hadn't been giving him queer looks, probably because no one had told him about the terrible scandal - and because he wasn't interested. To sit beside a person who was not speculating about his private life and his sexual preferences was something to be cherished these days.  
  
"Hi, Data. Can I buy you a drink?"  
  
"Thank you Commander, but I have an appointment with Geordi in Holodeck Two in five minutes."  
  
"Oh."  
  
"It is a new program designed by Ensign Rodrigues, and she asked Geordi to take a look at it. There seem to be some loops in the design she is unable to bypass."  
  
"What's it about?"  
  
"As I hear, it is a mixture of action entertainment and hand to hand battle training, based on a twentieth century moving picture called 'Die hard'."  
  
"Ouch, that doesn't sound very nice."  
  
"On the contrary, it is said to be very funny and ultimately relaxing." Data hesitated. "Would you like to accompany us, Commander?"  
  
"Me? Now? Uh... I - I don't know..."   
  
This hurt Guinan more than anything she had seen or heard in the past few days. Four days of suspicion, weird looks and coldness had been enough to make him react like this when someone, a friend, was merely being nice to him. Suddenly, she felt very furious, although no one could have told by looking into her placid eyes.  
  
"Or what about tomorrow? Then the program will be complete, and you and I can take the first official tour."  
  
Die hard. Sounded like just what he needed right now. And Data was obviously trying to show his support. "You got it, it's a date!"  
  
"Thank you, Commander. This is my first date in over four years." With this rather depressing statement, Data left, leaving behind a completely cracked up Riker, holding on to the bar to keep from falling off his stool.  
  
"It's good to see you laugh, Will."  
  
He stopped abruptly and looked up at Guinan. His eyes were tired, defeated somehow.  
  
"Well, the last days haven't been very funny."  
  
"I know."  
  
"You know what the worst thing is?" Will was staring into the drink Guinan had placed before him. He hadn't tasted it. "The silence. I never realized how much we actually talk to each other every day, all of us: about the mission, about who is dating who, about duty shifts, promotions, holodeck programs... stupid things, you know? And now it's just 'good morning' and 'good evening' and nothing in between. I feel so... lonely."   
  
Will couldn't keep the helplessness and confusion out of his voice. "What have I done, Guinan? What have I done?"  
  
"I don't know, Will. What have you done?"  
  
This made him react, and he hurled the answer furiously at her, as if she had been the one accusing him silently of unspeakable things.  
  
"Nothing!! Absolutely nothing! I went out on a date with Beverly, and then we spent a day together. That's all! Why should I be punished for that??"  
  
"Do you feel punished?"  
  
"Well, what do you call this? The captain giving me the silent treatment as if we were in school, bypassing me on decisions we used to take together, and everyone else walking around me in circles and whispering in corners?"  
  
"Have you talked to Beverly?"  
  
"Talked to her? I haven't even seen her in two days! I don't know how she does it, but she manages to run out of every room exactly five seconds before I come in."  
  
"It's hard to imagine Beverly running from anything - or anyone."  
  
"Well, it's hard to imagine Jean-Luc Picard behaving like a jealous boy whose girl went to the prom dance with someone else. God, if I had only known..."  
  
"You wouldn't have gone out with Beverly?"  
  
" No, I..." He paused and finally took a sip from his drink. Then he put it back on the counter, very slowly.  
  
"You know what, Guinan? I would have. I wouldn't want to miss that night and day we spent together. They meant a lot to me." Now he wasn't speaking to Guinan, but to himself. "I like her. I like her a lot. She's beautiful, she makes me laugh, she makes me feel at ease with myself like no one ever has, not even Deanna. Like it's ok to be just - me."  
  
Will looked up at Guinan, eyes wide with surprise. "Isn't that amazing? All these days worrying about the captain, about what everyone else thought and felt, and not once did I think about what I feel!"  
  
"Or what Beverly feels..."  
  
"Right. What WE feel." He stood up. "Thank you, Guinan. Thanks for listening."  
  
"Where are you going?"  
  
"I think there's someone else who needs to know how I feel." 


	6. Up close and personal

Comment:Finally, it's Riker vs. Picard face to face, and it's not going to be nice. Although help may be arriving from unexpected quarters...  
  
It's a long way from reading to enjoying; but enjoying and reviewing? That comes in the same package:)) Please tell me what you think!  
  
  
  
Chapter 6: Up close and personal  
  
  
  
He knew it was him the instant the chime sounded. Hell, he knew it even before that.   
  
Jean-Luc Picard had been waiting for his first officer's steps on the corridor outside his quarters for the last four days: eating, reading reports, going through the latest publications in archaeology, sleeping, in the shower - going through all the motions. But always in tension, always straining to hear those steps.   
  
Sometimes he would just sit on the couch, bolt upright, staring at the door, fists clenched... and after a while he would slowly unclench them, blink unbelievingly at the red marks his fingernails had dug on his palms. Those were the moments he took a deep breath and asked himself: what am I doing? Why am I doing it?   
  
Of course, there was no satisfactory answer, so he decided then and there that this would end. First thing the next morning, he would ask Will into his ready room, find some excuse, that Marie had been ill, or that he had been preoccupied finishing a tough paper... oh no, of course I'm not upset with you, Will, I am so sorry I should have given you that impression... Beverly? what about her? No, I didn't hear anything... oh, is that so? Well, congratulations, I wish you luck, she certainly is a fine woman, did you know I actually was sort of interested in her myself, once? Yes, long ago, well, time flies when you're having fun, hm?  
  
Then there was next morning, and Will standing on the bridge, looking at him with those sad eyes and a diminishing flicker of hope, wordlessly pleading with him 'please talk to me, please look at me, please...' And Jean-Luc greeted him with the briefest of nods and a 'good morning, report, Commander' that could have chilled the Antares Nebula to icicles, and disappeared into his ready room as soon as Will was finished.  
  
  
And now Will was standing in front of his door. It had taken him longer than Jean-Luc had expected, but finally he had decided to put words to his plea. And Jean-Luc knew what the answer would be.  
  
No.  
  
"Come!"  
  
"Am I disturbing you, Captain?"  
  
"Not at all! Have a seat. What can I do for you, Will?"  
  
This was certainly not what Will Riker had expected. He had come here straight from Ten Forward, guided by the strong feeling that he had to deal with the Captain before he tried to speak to Beverly about his feelings, about them.  
  
Deal with him. What an ugly expression. Jean-Luc Picard was not someone to be "dealt" with. He was a wise, an enlightened man, someone Will Riker had always deeply admired and respected. Seeing him smile now, and point to an armchair for him to sit down, Will felt his anxiety seep away and hope flared up instantly out of nowhere. Maybe it had all just been a terrible misunderstanding, maybe this wasn't about him and Beverly at all and he had just been imagining things...  
  
"Well, I was about to ask you the same thing, sir. We haven't had a chance to talk since we all came back from shore leave, and - well, you seemed a little tense these days, distracted, so I was wondering... is everything all right, Captain?"  
  
"I wasn't aware you had acquired empathic abilities, Commander."  
  
"Excuse me?"  
  
Still the smile. Only now Will noticed the strained edges around the other man's mouth, and the coldness that had never left his eyes. The sharp pain returned. For a moment he considered just leaving without another word. There really wasn't much to say, was there? But no, he had come to sit this conversation out, he would play the useless game.  
  
"Wouldn't it rather be the ship Counselor's duty to point out to the Captain any distracted or tense behavior she might consider a possible risk?"  
  
"Of course, sir. I didn't mean to imply any improper behavior on your part, only that... well, you've been acting strangely, so... so distant and - well, I'm worried about you. On... on a personal level."  
  
"On a personal level."  
  
"Yes, sir."  
  
"Will, let me assure you, there is nothing to be worried about. I have returned well rested from shore leave, the ship and crew are performing at peak efficiency. I hope you are likewise - refreshed?"  
  
If he hadn't known his Captain so well, Will would have been led to believe that he was being deliberately cruel. But, as much as every one of those calculated stupidities hurt him, he knew it hurt the Captain twice as much to say them.   
  
That was when Will decided to quit: two could play a game, but he was folding.  
  
Will leaned forward in his seat. "Please, sir, we need to talk about this. I never meant to cause all this - confusion. I didn't think it would affect everyone so much. In fact, I didn't think at all, and I should have, I should have known the rumors and speculations it would start. I am very sorry, and I want you to know that Beverly and I-"  
  
"I don't know what you are talking about, Commander."  
  
Always the smile, now paper-thin, meaningless, hollow.  
  
Riker's patience snapped. He jumped from the chair. "You know damn well what I'm talking about! Do you think I can't see it? Every time you look at me, you are thinking about me and Beverly, shut up for one night and one day in my quarters, and you are listening to every stupid little ensign who has something to say about just what we were doing in there, and you are believing it! I don't understand you, Captain! You used to trust me, we used to talk about things, even when we disagreed."  
  
For the first time since Will had come through the door, the Captain showed a genuine reaction. He stood up to face Riker. The smile vanished from his face, he set his jaw and narrowed his eyes to slits.  
  
"This is not a disagreement, Will. This is betrayal."  
  
Will gasped and actually doubled over, incapable of speech. That word, "betrayal", had hit him like a mean punch in the stomach. He didn't see Picard's hand, hovering for a second in mid-air, as if to catch him in his fall.   
  
A moment after, the Captain turned away from his First Officer, clearly indicating that there would be no further conversation on this subject - or any other.  
  
Will straightened, and there was nothing but sadness in his voice when he spoke: "Well, maybe it is, sir. But are you sure about who is betraying who?"  
  
Jean-Luc's head moved sharply to the side, but he didn't turn around. " Be careful, Commander. I didn't give you permission to speak freely. That will be all, Commander. You are dismissed."  
  
  
Five steps away from the Captain's quarters, Will ran into Beverly. He didn't know where he was going, all he could do was listen to that word ring in his head, betrayal, betrayal, all he could see was those cold eyes and the back the Captain had turned on him. For a wild moment he thought "maybe it's an alien intruder, that's not the Captain, it can't be, it CAN'T", and he even felt relieved for a second.  
  
"Will! Are you all right?"  
  
"Oh! I - Beverly! I've been meaning to talk to you, I..."  
  
"Yes, I know, I've been horrible to you, but - Listen, Will, you look awfully pale, are you feeling well? Maybe I should walk you straight to sickbay..."  
  
"No, I'm fine, really. I just-" He took a deep sigh. "I just talked to the Captain."  
  
"Oh. I see." When he was silent, she gently put a hand on his arm. "And?"  
  
"And? And nothing, Beverly. It was like talking to a wall. 'I don't know what you mean' and 'I fell perfectly all right' and 'everything's swell', that's all I got. Only a wall wouldn't accuse me of betrayal, and he did."  
  
"He did what?"   
  
Will couldn't help but noticing that she did the same eye-narrowing trick as the Captain. Maybe she had picked it up from him. Or he from her. Anyway, she looked much nicer when she did it. Much, much nicer.  
  
"He said that pursuing a relationship with you is akin to betrayal. Something along that line."  
  
"I can't believe this!! Just who does he think he is? HE was the one who stood me up for Vash the cosmic bed-hopper! Oh no, he's going to hear me out on this RIGHT NOW!"  
  
She was about to stomp away furiously, but Will caught her by the shoulders.  
  
"Wait! Don't go now, not like this. Having a fight with him will only make things worse. Besides, what's the point? We don't even have a relationship, at least not the kind he thinks."  
  
Beverly had calmed down outwardly, but Will knew her well enough to be wary of that certain sparkle in her eyes. With his hands still on her shoulders, they stood and looked at each other for a moment. Suddenly, she leaned forward and kissed him full on the mouth. And it wasn't a quick kiss either. After a long moment, she ended the kiss with as much determination as she had begun it.  
  
"Well, now we have."  
  
"Uh... now we have what?"  
  
"The kind of relationship everybody thinks we have. Or at least we took a step in the right direction." She smiled sweetly. "Would it be all right for me to go and talk to Jean-Luc now?" 


	7. Imzadi

Comment:I know, I know, you're waiting for the confrontation between Beverly and Jean-Luc. And it's coming, I promise. Soon!!  
  
Only, things were getting a bit too tense, and I really needed to clear up those dark clouds around poor Will, let him know that SOME things never change, and that he still has friends - besides Data, that is. AND it's my little wink to all those Imzadi shippers out there:)) Hey, anyway, YOU got what you wanted, didn't you?  
  
I couldn't do this without you, I'm overwhelmed by the response to this story. With your help, it's turning from a drabble to something more like Bergman or Woody Allen in a bad mood :)) Thanks!!!  
  
  
  
Chapter 7: Imzadi  
  
  
  
"Hot chocolate... no, belay that order. Tea - Earl Grey, hot."  
  
When the steaming glass cup materialized in the replicator, Deanna took it up and held it gingerly, not knowing very well what to do with it or why she had ordered it. She tasted a sip and made a face. Of course, she knew that tea was properly drunk without sugar, but...  
  
The door-chime sounded. "Yes, come in."  
  
The doors opened to reveal Will, leaning into the room but not stepping in. "Am I disturbing?"  
  
"Will, you know you don't need to ask that."  
  
He smiled and finally crossed the treshhold.  
  
"Yes, I know. Normally. But I wasn't very sure about today, though."  
  
"What's so different today?"  
  
He sighed and raised his hands, then let them fall along his sides in a gesture of defeat.   
  
"Oh, please, Deanna, don't give me the cheerful act again. I had some of that already. , Look, I know you probably mean well, but it's not helping, really." His voice was pained and terribly tired, and there were lines on his face Deanna had not seen before.   
  
He was right. He was suffering, he needed her, and all she had been doing was avoiding him, pretending nothing happened, nothing was affecting him or the rest of the crew. Of course, being an empath, she had not believed her own lies for a second, which made her attitude especially difficult to maintain. Besides being completely absurd.  
  
Deanna sat on the sofa beside Will and took his hand in hers. "I'm sorry. It's been a couple of bad days, hasn't it?"  
  
"Read my mind, baby." Shoving his face into hers, he rolled his eyes and wiggled his eyebrows. So at least he hadn't lost his sense of humor yet.  
  
Deadpan, she replied: "Don't you call me baby, COMMANDER. Besides, you know very well that I can not read your mind. Being an empath, not a telepath, only enables me to sense some of your stronger emotions in a very general way."  
  
But he didn't follow through with the joke. Once the ice was broken and he had assured himself that they still were friends, he needed to get some weight off his mind.  
  
"Oh, you can read MY mind, Deanna. Always could. I bet anyone could, for that matter. I'm not such a difficult guy to read."  
  
"No, you're not." His head was hanging down. Deanna was about to begin to gently stroke his head in a way she knew soothed him, but then she took a deep breath. That time was over.   
  
"I know what you've been through these last few days, and I can't begin to tell you how sorry I am for not being there for you." She fought to keep back her tears. "I don't know if I can ever make it up to you, but-"  
  
"Shshshsh, it's all right, Imzadi. No need to aplogize, not with me. I know this has been hard for you, too."   
  
He looked up and gently brushed away the tears from her face, and as he reassured her, Will found it strange that he should find the comfort he had come looking for in comforting her. Just sitting there and knowing that he still had his Imzadi made life look less grim.  
  
Finally, she pulled herself together. "Well, there are a few things I still CAN do. First of all, I am going to see the Captain-"  
  
"Uh... Deanna, I don't think that's such a good idea."  
  
"Why not? I think it is a very good idea, especially now." She stood up and began to pace the room.  
  
"He has always refused to accept the responsability of how his emotional reactions affect the rest of the crew. He has refused to accept that he HAS emotional reactions, period. And we have gone along with it, even supported it, because, let's face it, we eat whatever he puts on the table."  
  
"That's a rather rude way to put it, Deanna."  
  
"Well, it's true. Another way to say it would be that we love him just that way he is and wouldn't dream of trying to change him, and that would be true too, but the fact is that he can't afford that kind of an attitude being a starship captain. You don't know, Will, how often I have tried to talk to him about this, but as senstive as he is in so many other aspects, when it comes to this theme, it's like talking to a wall."  
  
"Yeah, tell me about it." In response to Deanna's puzzled face, he added: "I just tried to talk to him myself."  
  
"You did?!"  
  
"I couldn't stand it anymore, Deanna, the cold stares, the stony face... just like when I first came on the Enterprise, only much worse, because this time I know it's not a test, I know he really hates me..."  
  
"He doesn't hate you, Will."  
  
Riker shook his head. "So I figured I'd cut right through it, confront him, you know. I kept hoping that maybe it was just a misunderstanding after all, that if I told him that nothing really happened between Beverly and me..."  
  
He paused and gave her a meaningful look. " Because NOTHING happened..."  
  
But it will, she thought. She didn't say it aloud, though. Instead, she simply nodded.  
  
"He wouldn't listen." It wasn't a question.  
  
"No. It was awful. It was - cruel."  
  
"Cruel?"  
  
"He said - things... I know he didn't mean them, and I know it hurt him more to say it than me to hear it, but... well, that's why I think it wouldn't be such a great idea to talk to him right now. Besides, I think Beverly is there now."  
  
"What!?!"  
  
"Well, I met her in the corridor and told her about my... conversation with the Captain. She was furious. I tried to stop her, but, short from tying her up and throwing her in the brig, there was no way to keep her."  
  
"Oh my God..."  
  
"Don't worry, I think she can handle him."  
  
"Yes, I'm sure of that. But can he handle her?" 


	8. The last time

Comment:I know I have kept you waiting an unduly long time, and I am terribly sorry. I have been carrying this story with me all week long, Beverly and Jean-Luc were standing in a dark room, facing in each other, and they just refused to talk! I don't want to pretend I am overly satisfied with the final result, but it's the best I could come up with. I am also aware that I'm leaving you with an uncomfortable cliffhanger again, and I could understand it if you just loose your interest. All I can say is that I could and would not bring this to a hurried end. When it comes to personal feelings, Jean-Luc Picard can tend to be rather rigind, and as I see him, he is not bound to accept a big change in his staus quo so easliy. Tell me what you think about this!!  
  
I hope precedent chapters warned you sufficiently that THIS IS GOING TO BE SAD!!!  
  
Thanks for being patient, for reading, thanks for enjoying, thanks for reviewing. This is your work as much as mine.  
  
  
  
Chapter 8: The last time  
  
  
Unlike Will and Deanna, who used their personal overrides to walk into each others quarters as if they were their own, Beverly had never used her own to enter Jean-Luc's quarters. Neither had he used his. Always proper. Always familiar, though slightly restrained, always implying, but never giving in.   
  
Always polite.  
  
Until tonight. Tonight would be the first time for a lot of things. And maybe the last time for quite a few others.  
  
When she walked in, he was standing at the window, looking out into space warping by. He didn't turn around, and Beverly knew he had been standing that way when Will left, and that he hadn't moved since then.  
  
They had had difficult conversations before. Suddenly it seemed to Beverly they had had nothing BUT difficult conversations. About Jack, about Wesley, about illness and death, decisions to make, roads to take. And then, when the issue at stake wasn't dead serious, when there weren't deep ethical and philosophical problems involved, the loss of lives or the survival of the Universe as we know it, Jean-Luc seemed to loose interest. At least around her. For lighter entertainment there were the likes of Vash and other holodeck-novel-type sort of women.  
  
Beverly shook her head and took a deep breath. Although she had meant to storm into the room and confront him with all the bitter reproaches that - so she thought - had piled up inside her over the years, she had forgotten about all that the minute she saw him standing there. He was just a man, and from where she was, he looked fragile, and quite lonely.  
  
"Jean-Luc...", she began tentatively.  
  
"What do you want?" He meant it to come out short and sharp, but his voice was so low Beverly had to strain her ears to hear it.  
  
Coming closer, but still standing behind him, she matched her voice to his.  
  
"I want this to stop."  
  
The muscles in his back tensed.  
  
"What is it you want to stop?"  
  
Another step closer, her voice even lower, almost a whisper.  
  
"All of it."  
  
Finally, he turned to look at her. Neither of them had called for lights; his face lay in shadows and she could not read his expression. Probably he couldn't see the tears on hers, either.  
  
Beverly laid a hand on his arm. "All of it, Jean-Luc."  
  
He stepped back wordlessly and turned away.  
  
"For heavens sake, don't you see what you're doing?"  
  
"What *I* am doing? I would think this uncomfortable situation rather originates in what *you* are doing! You and..."  
  
"Can't you even say his name? Oh, please, if we could just talk quietly for a minute... Come, sit with me, will you, Jean-Luc? This is not you, I know-"  
  
"I have not changed, Beverly, I can tell you that, *I* have not changed!"  
  
He was still standing in the shadows, but Beverly could hear the anger raising in his voice, parallel to her own. This was what she had wanted to avoid above all, the hurling back and forth of reproaches and recriminations. But they were both slipping into it with a terrifying easiness.  
  
"No, and that's exactly the problem! You have been behaving in exactly the same ways and patterns for so many years, you don't even know you're doing it anymore. It was you who stood me up, remember?"  
  
"Oh, that's nothing but a cheap excuse! We never fixed a date, I just said maybe we could go out for dinner..."  
  
"You said you'd pick me up at seven!"  
  
"How was I to know you would make such a big issue out of it? The invitation-"  
  
"I don't want to hear it!! I - am - not - interested!!"   
  
Very conscious that the conversation was turning into a teenage melodramatic farce, Beverly clenched her fists and breathed heavily. When she was calm enough, she spoke again:  
  
"This is not about the date, and not about the invitation, and not about Vash, and you know it. I sincerely hoped we could talk about it because two persons I love very much are suffering. But if this is the way you want it, this is the way you'll have it. You will find my resignation as Chief Medical Officer of this vessel on your desk tomorrow at eight hundred hours."  
  
"Lights!", he called. They both blinked for a moment, then she found him staring unbelievingly at her.  
  
"You would do that for him?"  
  
"I do it for me. Things have to change one way or the other, and if you don't want to help me, I'll have to do it on my own."  
  
He did not move or speak, but Beverly noticed the almost imperceptible changes. Too long and too many times had she studied that face. His shoulders relaxed, the lines around his mouth softened, and a little shimmer of that warm, gentle, deep light so particular to him returned to his eyes.  
  
"But... of course I want to help you, Beverly, you know I always will..."  
  
"Yes, that's what I used to believe."  
  
Finally, took a few steps towards her. Then, he sat down heavily on the sofa and stared on the ground.  
  
"I am so tired, Beverly... What is it you all want from me?"  
  
"We want back our captain - and our friend."  
  
He looked up at her. Now that he had admitted about being tired and confused, the pain also showed clearly on his face.  
  
"Why? Why did you have to do that? Why with Will?"  
  
Beverly flinched inwardly and fought to remain calm.  
  
"Why did I have to do what?"  
  
"Have a one night stand. And with Will Riker, of all people!"  
  
"Don't tell me you never had a one night stand."  
  
"But that... that's different."  
  
"Oh? And what's so different about it?"  
  
Instead of answering her question, he crossed the room to where she was standing and took her hands in his.  
  
"Listen... I really am tired and you are right: I have not been very... accessible these past few days, and I promise I will change that, and I promise I will forget about all this, if you promise me the same thing. Could we leave it at that?"  
  
She didn't take away her hands, but looked steadily into his eyes and answered softly: "No." 


	9. Believer

Comment:Rather philosophical again, I know. Couldn't resist a voyage into the fascinating mind of our favorite captain. He's the one most deeply affected by Will and Beverly's new relationship, and I wanted to explain exactly why. Happy ending? Well, as happy as circumstances provide.  
  
Well, thanks for being there!! It's been a pleasure, I hope on your part too:))  
  
  
  
Chapter 9: Believer  
  
  
A captain knows when to abandon ship. He knows it with the same deep rooted instinct that tells him the warp engines are zero point zero zero two degrees off the peak efficiency level by the mere vibration of the deck at warp five, the same sharp and instant perception of a situation that tells him when to use diplomacy and when it's time to just grab a phaser, shoot now and ask questions later. He not only knows these things with his mind and his experience, he *feels* them with his body, in the very marrow of his bones.  
  
But that doesn't always mean he's ready to accept them.  
  
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Jean-Luc Picard knew what Beverly meant when she held his hands, looked into his eyes and said softly but firmly: "No." He knew what she meant when she had come into the room and pleaded with him that it had to stop - all of it. Hell, he even knew that the wild night and day of sexual extravagances everyone on the Enterprise was murmuring about was probably just a fantasy. Beverly and Will weren't acting like people who have had an outrageous and extraordinary sexual encounter; more like people who would like to find out *if* their relationship could eventually reach that stage of the outrageous and extraordinary - but they didn't dare take the next natural step.  
  
Because of him. His reaction to the repeated messages of "Doctor Crusher is in Commader Riker's quarters" whenever he asked the computer her location (he could almost hear the slightly annoying female voice that reminded him vaguegly of Lwaxana Troi add "STILL in Commader Riker's quarters") had been of utter shock and disbelief. He could literally feel himself freeze up, doors close in his mind and in his heart. As if someone had told him James T. Kirk had enjoyed performing vivisection on infant tribbles in his spare time, or that Q had decided to wipe out the Borg from existence to make up for his past sins. Those things just didn't happen.  
  
Jean-Luc Picard knew he lived in an unstable, unpredictable Universe, and most of the time he was pretty sure that there was no higher being who led men's destinies. Nevertheless, humans where meant to be believers. They were constructed that way. There had to be some fundamentals to believe in.  
  
For Captain Picard, it was people. People changed, disappeared, they died every day, as captain of a starship he knew that well enough. But somehow he had managed to convince himself that the people he felt most attached to, his family, his friends, were the exceptions to this inexorable rule. And he was not alone in believing it, mind you - history and fact were on his side. Everyone knew that the bridge crew of the Enterprise - ANY Enterprise - was for some cosmic reason touched by a special grace: THEY didn't die, disappear or change so easily, they *endured*, they stood by each other and stayed right the way they were.  
  
Never had Jean-Luc had a reason to doubt this. Sometimes, when he was plagued by nightmares, or when he couldn't sleep for days, his mind oppressed by the weight of a decision no one could take for him, or when he sat alone in the observation lounge after a briefing and had to ask himself again what the hell he was doing... the thought of his trust in this people and theirs in him was what got him through. No matter what, he knew they would never be far when he needed them, and they would be whatever he needed them to be. They were his safety net, his last resort.  
  
And when everything else failed, when he had nowhere else to turn to, he thought of Beverly. Beverly who understood him with just a word or a look, Beverly with the gentle hands and firm voice who could cure anything, anything at all, Beverly with the most exciting body through all four quadrants and beyond the great rim. Her affairs with other men affected him, of course, but never very deeply because nothing could shatter his conviction that, ultimately, she was waiting for *him*. She would wait as long as he needed her to. And if he needed it to be forever, then forever it would be.  
  
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"No."  
  
This was the time to surrender. It was as clear as it could get: either he let it go - he let HER go - or she would leave. In anger. Was that what he wanted?  
  
But it was not just her she was asking him to let go: she was asking him to leave the solid ground under his feet and jump into the unknown.  
  
She didn't let go of his hands, nor he of hers. She could feel his fear, and in the same soft tone she said: "I am not going far, Jean-Luc. I'll be just... next door."  
  
With a deep sigh, he nodded. Relieved, she threw her arms around him and held him close. For a moment, he resisted, but then he gave in and just hugged her back. They had never held each other like this, not even when they had needed it most. There was always something standing between them: an uncertainty, a blurred past, a vague future of even vaguer promises... Now that they had disregarded all that, it was as if they could see each other for the first time for what they really were: friends. And they could value that friendship for what it was, without wishing it to be something else, or something more.  
  
Maybe, maybe the solid ground he had been looking for was right here after all...  
  
Finally, she pulled back a little and said: "You have to talk to Will."  
  
"Beverly, I don't know if..."  
  
"But *I* know, Jean-Luc! You said some terrible things to him, things I'm sure you didn't mean, and he has to know that. He has to feel you trust him again. You owe that much to him, don't you think?"  
  
As he was silent, she insisted: "If you're still wondering - nothing happened, nothing at all. You know how people talk. We actually just got pretty drunk, if you want to know the truth, and then, in his quarters..."  
  
"I know, I know", he assured her hurriedly. He wasn't quite ready to hear all the details yet. "It's not that, it's just that..." He fidgeted. "I guess I'm ashamed."  
  
"As you should be. You behaved like a jerk."  
  
"Oh thank you, Beverly, that makes me feel so much better. Now I shall certainly have no more misgivings about approaching Commander Riker."  
  
"Come on, Jean-Luc, face it: even *you* can act like a jerk just like any other man. What's important is that you notice - or that someone MAKES you notice - before it's too late, while there's still time say I'm sorry."  
  
His face was serious again.  
  
"Do you think there's still time?"  
  
She smiled. "Jean-Luc, to hear a 'sorry' from you, Will Riker would wait until the end of times and some years after that."  
  
He didn't smile back, but instead asked the computer what time it was. One hundred hours. He turned towards her, hesitating.  
  
"I'm sure he's awake", she encouraged him.  
  
He nodded thoughtfully. "Yes, I think so too."  
  
Before he reached the door, he stopped. With an evident effort, he faced her to ask the one question he couldn't get off his mind. As absurd as it would seem, and whatever the answer, he just had to know.  
  
"Do you love him?"  
  
She didn't answer immediately. Her face asuumed a distant look, and her smile spoke of things so precious and delicate, a mere rough thought could break them.  
  
"I don't know yet. But I hope I will."  
  
He nodded again, and the smile he offered her now was the one she had known and loved so many years. 


End file.
